


Upon a Dark Horse

by DecemberKat



Series: Faery Intent 'Verse [3]
Category: Law & Order: Criminal Intent
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Childbirth, F/M, Nightmares, Pregnancy, daughter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecemberKat/pseuds/DecemberKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A disturbing nightmare raises questions about what really happened at the medical facility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night Terrors

Bobby was unprepared when the nightmares first came. He woke up covered in sweat, heart racing, and his wife Alex huddled on the far side of the bed, nearly fallen off and staring at him with a terrified, questioning gaze. She had one hand clutched protectively over her swollen belly. There his child grew, almost ready to be born. Bobby reached out his three-fingered hand to reassure her. Alex's eyes flicked from his hand to his face, cat-like ears flattened against her skull.  
“Alex?” he whispered. “It's okay. It was just a dream. It's okay.” His wife's ears twitched forward.  
“Just a dream? You were screaming. I'd be surprised if people in China didn't hear you.” she told him, a bit acridly. He flinched away from his wife's words. A knock came at the door.  
“Is everything alright in there?” their friend Zach asked through the doorway. “Mike wanted to burst in, but, ah, I warned him not to.” After a moment, Alex called,  
“We're fine! Go back to bed.” She could hear shuffling on the other side of the oak wood door. Finally,  
“Oh. Okay. Goodnight.” She could hear them leaving, the shuffle of plush slippers and the click as Mike disarmed his gun. Bobby crawled across the bed towards his wife. He helped her get back on the bed completely and let her lay her head on his broad chest.  
“Do you want to tell me about it? The dream.” she asked quietly when they had settled back down.  
“I heard screaming. There were bodies... hanging from the ceiling. Blood everywhere. I could... somehow feel them being tortured. It was like I was being tortured myself.” Alex was quiet for a long while, running her hands through her husband's darkening curls.  
“That's horrible.” she murmured. “At least it's over.”  
“Yeah,” Bobby mumbled, drifting off again. “over.”

The next morning was a flurry of activity. It was Zach's turn to cook, which usually meant pancakes of all shapes and sizes. Alex chewed hers thoughtfully as she glanced at her husband. He had tried to brush off his nightmare as 'just one of those things' but she had her suspicions. Ever since the bombings Bobby had grown more and more sensitive to the people around him, almost as if he could sense their emotions. Places, too, seemed to have more of an effect on him. When they had visited her sister at Christmas, he'd commented that her house had a bit of a melancholy feel. She remembered him asking if someone had ever ended their life in the upstairs bedroom. How he could've found out about the previous owners of Liz's house was mystery, as was his increased sensitivity to... well, everything.  
“Something wrong, Alex?” Bobby said, his brown eyes searching her face for hints. Alex looked down at her plate.  
“It's nothing, I just...” she looked back up at the father of her child. “We need to talk about that 'dream' you had last night. You know, the one that scared the ever-loving crap out of at least three twenty year veterans of the NYPD.” She regretted her tone almost immediately. Bobby's face fell and he looked away from his wife in shame.  
“It was so real...” he whispered, leaning across the table. “It... terrified me.”  
“Terrified the rest of us too.” said Mike from the kitchenette. When the couple looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. “Werewolf hearing.” he sauntered over to the table and plopped down beside the bulky detective. “You gonna be okay?” Bobby glanced at his wife and nodded.  
“I'll be fine. It was... just a dream.” A few minutes later Zach rushed into the room, bearing his laptop.  
“Hey, I thought you might want to see this.” He set the computer on the table and turned it towards his three companions. It was an e-mailed video sent by one of Zach's numerous Fae contacts. When he pressed play Bobby's heart dropped to his stomach. It was his dream, down to the last drop of blood coming from the victims. When it was over, Alex was looking at him in concern.  
“This was your dream, wasn't it?” Bobby nodded, too shocked to say anything.  
“So Bobby's psychic as well as a troll.” Mike summed up. Zach cut in with an explanation.  
“Normally, trolls are empaths, but a few have... stronger gifts.” Alex scoffed.  
“You call screaming nightmares about dead people being hung from a ceiling a 'gift.'” Zach's large brown eyes flicked to his colleague.  
“No... what was important was that it hadn't happened yet.” He licked his lips before continuing. “Has anyone else noticed... changes in mental abilities?”  
“I can't grab the remote with the power of my mind, if that's what you're asking.” Mike quipped. Zach gave him a dirty look. The lone female in the group glanced from man to man. There was an undercurrent here, one she wasn't easily picking up on.  
“That wouldn't be something you would experience.” said the tall detective icily. “Werewolves aren't usually psychic as well.”  
“Okay, so what's going on, here?”  
“Well, ah... I've contacted a few people and it seems... that a few other people have been kidnapped and sent to medical facilities around the US.”  
“What kind of other people?” asked Mike.  
“People with... certain abilities beyond what's... normal for their species.”  
“Well, as far as we know, Bobby's the only one of us with these so-called 'special powers.' Why were the rest of us kidnapped?” Zach glanced down at his computer.  
“Well, I suppose... we just got in the way. Or they wanted to...study how the change affected previously normal humans.”  
“We were test subjects?” asked Alex. Zach nodded.  
“The first in a global series of conversions. The US was first,” he said, bringing up a map of the world on his laptop. “then Canada, the UK,” he continued, pointing as he went. “Russia, China, Australia, Japan, South Africa, Brazil. All of them hit within a few hours of us escaping from the facility.”  
“It's a...” Bobby started. “It's deliberate. One by one. All hit by bombing, then shockwaves, then the gas that... converted us.” He allowed himself a quick glance at his tail, which was sweeping from side to side across the oak wooden floor. “They don't care how many people die. They just want more people to turn into full-blooded Fae.”  
“Why?” asked his wife. “Is he trying to grow an army?” The four detectives were silent for a long moment.  
“This is genocide.” Mike finally whispered. “They're trying to wipe out the human race.”  
“Replace it with Fae.” Zach finished for him. “Use the remaining humans... as slave labour. The Fae have been doing that for centuries.” Everyone turned to stare at the lanky detective. He shrugged.  
“Fae are elitist, think they're better than humanity.”  
“Well, they are, in some ways.” Bobby pointed out. “Stronger, faster... immortal. But then why would... they hide for millenia, and lash out... just now?”  
“They've been waiting.” said Zach softly. “For something.”  
“Like what?” asked Mike. “The birth of the Antichrist?” Zach shook his head.  
“Faeries don't pay much attention to Christian mythology. The Church hasn't always been... tolerant of the Good Folk. The Inquisition? Started by an anti-Fae faction of the Catholic Church.”  
“So this is payback.” said Bobby. “Years of... persecution. Repression.” He got up and started to pace, his “brilliant detective” mode in full force. “So the main question is... why now? Why not in...” he searched for a year. “1887? 1927? 1990? Why 2012?”  
“Mayan calendar?” suggested Mike. “The, ah, one with the guy in the middle with his tongue--”  
“That's Aztec.” Bobby cut in. “And... the Mayans didn't actually predict the end of the world, just the end of the calendar.”  
“Besides, if it really was the Mayans, the bombings would have started in December, not October.” added Zach. The other detective put up his hands in surrender.  
“Okay, okay, not the Mayans. Any other theories swimming around in that great big brain of yours?” Bobby gave his friend an odd look.  
“Possibly. I have to... see what the weather's going to be like tomorrow.” He left the room, still muttering to himself. Alex smiled at her husband's remarkable thought pattern.  
“Well this is going to be interesting.” she commented.


	2. Parents Embarassing Their Children Part Eleventy-Billion

After lunch Bobby gathered up the detectives to drive into the city to run errands. Alex's pregnancy prevented her from driving, so Mike had taken over chauffeuring duties until she gave birth.  
“Bobby?” asked Zach tentatively.  
“Hm?”  
“I think my mom would have some books on psychic abilities. If you want--”  
“Sure.” he interrupted, taken aback a little. “That could... that would help, thank you.” Alex glanced from her husband to her friend. There, also, was some undercurrent of something. She filed it away to deal with later.

When they got to Sophia's club they came in the way they had back in October when this whole thing had began. There was still the forest of tents and the sickeningly sweet scent of weed and opium, but the room was now decorated in more spring-like colors, light yellows and pinks with the occasional rabbit or daffodil painted on the banners.  
“Already decorating for Beltane.” Zach commented. “It's barely April.”  
“The humans always put out Christmas decorations in late October.” came a voice from behind them. The detectives spun around nearly in unison and came face to face with Dr Sophia Nichols, a Park Avenue psychiatrist with a sideline in drug havens. “So why shouldn't we Fae anticipate Beltane in April?”  
“Hello, Mother.” said Zach, trying not hunch a little in her presence. He loved his mother, certainly, but that didn't stop him from being a more than a bit frightened of her. She was a shade, a being of pure shadow in human form. At the moment, however, she showed little proof of her species, save her black-pool eyes.  
“Hello, my son. Let me look at you. I haven't seen you for months!” she inspected her offspring, then moved along to his companions, smiling with approval at Alex's swollen abdomen. “Any day now.” she commented. Alex returned the Fae woman's expression, putting her arm around her husband.  
“Any day.” Sophia gave Mike a once-over and turned back to her son.  
“Where's the rest of them?”  
“Megan's in Albany with her mother.” explained Zach. “And Carolyn got an apartment in the city. One of the first to be rebuilt. She's helping to keep order there.” Sophia laughed.  
“Good on her! Always nice to be part of the action. You said on the phone that you needed use of my library.” Mike gave the lanky detective a dirty look.  
'You planned this?!?' he mouthed angrily. Zach shrugged sheepishly.  
“I think I have a few books on special gifts, but you'll have to check.” she smirked at Alex. “I'd like to talk to Detective Eames alone.”

When she'd herded the rest of the group down the corridor leading to her personal library, Sophia Nichols lead Alex into her personal study. She poured a cup of peppermint tea for her guest, while the detective settled herself into an ornate antique armchair with a huff.  
“I can't wait to have this kid.” she commented. “I'm getting sick of waddling.” Sophia laughed and served the tea.  
“I remember being pregnant with my son. He was a chubby little baby, if you can believe that.” Alex smiled at the thought. “He was such a quiet child, except for a little incident at school with a Popsicle and a pair of sneakers, but I was proud the day he entered medical school.”  
“From what I hear, he quit. Must have been quite a disappointment.” Sophia chuckled, half to herself.  
“I suppose. His father took it harder than I did. We were having the first of our marital problems back then, so I figure that was his way of defying the both of us.”  
“Every child rebels. I almost look forward to what this kid's got in store for us.” she said pointing at her belly. Sophia grinned.  
“I can see why my son likes you so much he's willing share you with two other men.” Alex spat our her tea in shock.  
“I--! What--! Who--! I AM A MARRIED WOMAN! I'M MARRIED TO MY HUSBAND!” Sophia seemed completely unaffected by her guest's outburst. She took a sip of her own tea and thought a moment before replying.  
“And the two of you seem very happy together. However,” she added, refreshing her and Alex's teacups. “I have also noticed that neither the two of you, my son, nor that other gentleman--”  
“Mike Logan.” Alex corrected automatically.  
“Mike Logan have attempted to move out of that cabin of yours. Now, Faeries are matriarchal-- I only took my ex-husband's name to make it easier on my little ones.”  
“Ones? Plural?”  
“I'll be going back, soon. Sophia Silverstein.” Alex stared at the older woman in shock. “It's perfectly legal for a Fae woman to take more than one male partner. And you, my dear, are now a Fae woman, whether the conservative faction of Good Folk believe so or not.”  
“Good Folk.” Alex said numbly. Her brain was reeling with the implications of the mysterious something she had felt between both Zach and Mike and Zach and her husband.  
“The Fae. It's a slang term, along with Fair Folk, Good Neighbors--”  
“Whoa, wait a minute.” Alex put her cup down on the side table. “You're suggesting that I have a polyamorous relationship with my husband and our two best friends and colleagues.” Sophia nodded.  
“I was in a relationship much like it before.” she smiled wistfully. “My first husband left me, and my boyfriend died in the Second World War.” Alex just stared. Sophia laughed. “I was born in 1041. I have been a part of many events in history. The Russian Revolution, for example.” Alex sighed and put her head in her hands. The door to the study opened. They turned to see Zach Nichols with an armful of books, some in English, but mostly in a variety of foreign languages, some of which Alex failed to recognize.  
“Are you ready?” he asked shyly. “Bobby's about ready to leave.” He set the books down on a side table and helped Alex out of the armchair. Sophia beamed up at her son.  
“Do think about that I have told you, Detective Eames. An opportunity like this doesn't come terribly often.” Alex gave her a tense smile.  
“I will, Doctor Nichols.”  
“Silverstein.”  
“Right. Silverstein. Goodnight.” Zach lead the smaller detective out of his mother's study, balancing the books on his shoulder.  
“So, what'd you talk about?” he asked once they were out of earshot.  
“Oh, not much.” said Alex. She couldn't wait to get home and put her feet up. It was at times like this she wished she wasn't pregnant. After that conversation, she felt like having a stiff drink... or twenty. “She did mention an incident with a Popsicle and a pair of running shoes.” Zach went stark white and nearly tripped over his own shoelaces.  
“Uh... for the record that pigeon had it coming!”  
“Now I'm really intrigued!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...the pigeon may have had it coming, but the apricot didn't do a damn thing! (I feel I should apologize to Nichols for making his mother a reoccurring character...)


	3. Mothers

When they got home that evening, Alex thought about what Sophia had told her. While it was true none of them had tried to move out of the cabin, it was also true that there were very few apartments available in the city. She went into her and Bobby's bedroom and lay down on the bed. Soon her husband came in and lay down next to her, undoing his tie as he did so.  
“So, how'd your chat go with Doctor Nichols?” he asked finally. Alex groaned and rubbed her face with her hands. “That well, huh?”  
“She... made some unorthodox suggestions about our living arrangements.”  
“Huh.” he glanced toward the ceiling. “She... noticed that Zach and Mike haven't... found an apartment yet and aren't exactly... looking.” Alex smiled and cuddled closer to her husband.  
“Bingo.”  
“What'd she suggest... exactly?” Alex sighed and sat up. Bobby followed her, his dark eyes radiating concern.  
“She thought we should have a...”  
“...a... foursome.” he finished. His wife laid her hands on her pregnant belly.  
“Don't worry, she got shot down in flames.” Bobby smiled a little. There was a small silence.  
“Still,” he said quietly. “It's... nice having them around.” Alex gave him an astonished look. “For the company.” he added quickly. “It's... to have people to talk to, it's... nice.” He looked away from his partner, wondering whether he'd have to sleep on the couch.  
“Bobby...” she whispered finally, taking hold of his shoulder. “I know it hasn't been a bed of roses these past few months, but I don't want to sleep with other men. Sophia was just trying to...” She snorted. “Actually, I don't know what the hell she was doin'.” That brought a soft chuckle from her partner. “But I'm perfectly happy the way we are. I love you.” Bobby smile grew, and he leaned down to give her a kiss.  
Alex felt something damp between her legs. She looked down. Her husband's eyes followed hers, his mouth forming a perfect O.  
“Umm... your water broke.” he said dumbly. Alex glared at him. “I should get the car.” Alex raised her eyebrows at him. The first contraction hit and she doubled over, her claws pricking her husband's skin through his jacket. Bobby looked from her to the water. He'd prepared for this, but at the moment his mind seemed to have gone completely blank. Within seconds Mike and Zach were at the door, faces flushed from running.  
“We have to get her to the hospital.” stated Mike. When the other detective failed to act, he went over and lifted Alex into a bridal carry. Finally the husband managed to snap out of it and took his wife from his friend.  
“Nichols, go start the car.” Within seconds the lanky detective was off running faster than any human towards the garage. Bobby followed as fast as he could, his wife panting and gritting her teeth.  
“Dammit, Bobby, hurry!” she ordered. “She'll be out any...” Another contraction cut her off. She let out a cry of pain and increased her hold on her husband's bicep.  
“It's an hour to the hospital.” said Mike. “Think she'll make it?”  
“She'll have to.” replied Bobby. He turned to his wife. “Sorry, honey.”  
“Just drive.” she grunted.

Bobby sped all the way to the hospital, whilst trying not to get them both in a car accident along the way. He could hear Alex's groans of pain from the backseat, intermixed with feline mewling and hisses. They made it, finally, and Bobby carried his wife into the emergency room, eyes wild. They managed to get a room fairly quickly, due to exactly how quickly their daughter was coming. Years later Bobby would still remember every detail of that moment, from the smell of disinfectants that seemed to permeate every hospital room in existence to the first thought he had after he heard his daughter's cries for the first time, mingling in with the cries of her mother, his wife. 'I have a daughter.' he thought joyfully. Every second of his life had been leading up to this exact moment, a mere prelude to the tiny being he and his wife had created a little over nine months ago. Suddenly, a dark mass settled in the pit of his stomach. 'Something's wrong.'  
“It's a girl!” the doctor informed him. After the umbilical cord was cut, they wrapped his daughter up in a pink blanket and gave her to Alex. He reached over to kiss his wife on the forehead, then to stroke his newborn daughter's cheek for the first time. He counts her tiny fingers. Five, perfectly shaped, though with tiny, pin-like claws the Fae doctor assured him was from his wife's nekomata physiology. The baby's ears were pointed upwards, clearly his contribution, and Bobby swore he could see the barest hint of a minuscule tail, also an attribute he had passed on to his daughter. When the gas had changed his wife's appearance, so did it affect the tiny life she know held at her breast. He was amused, slightly to see that his daughter was kneading her mother's breast, like a kitten.  
“Her eyes should open in about five days, Detective Goren.” said the doctor, getting ready to leave. “Congratulations.”  
“Thank you.” the bulky detective said before turning his attention back to his wife. “So.”  
“So.” There was a kind of peace in the delivery room, the sun shining through the open window, the whiteness of the room creating a soft aura around the bed.  
“We... talked about... what we'd call her a while back.”  
“I remember.” said Alex, a soft smile on her face. She looked happier than she had in months,her face shining with sweat and pride at her beautiful newborn.  
“You wanted... to name her Grace. For... your grandmother.” Alex chuckled softly, earning a small grunt from their baby girl. She remembered that conversation vividly.

“Grace.” she said as she sat down on the bedspread. She was now five months along, over halfway to her due date. Bobby rushed over ot help her sit. She waved him away and lay down. Her back was killing her.  
“Uh, sorry?”  
“Grace was my grandmother's name after she came over from Ireland. Before it was something else.”  
“Gráinne.” Alex looked at him in surprise.  
“Yes! How did--?”  
“It's the Irish version.” he explained. “There was a... a pirate by that name in the 16th and 17th centuries. Grace O'Malley. They called her 'The Sea Queen of Connaught'” Alex laughed and patted the space beside her. Bobby carefully sat down and lay next to his wife. She automatically snuggled up closer, resting her head on his arm.  
“My grandmother was named after a pirate.” she said, tickled. “That explains... so much.” Bobby joined her, his low chuckle joining her higher pitched snorting laugh.'I wouldn't trade her for the world.' he thought.

Footsteps in the hall diverted the couple's attention. Zach Nichols and Mike Logan stood in the doorway, holding a teddy bear and a basket of flowers.  
“You left us in a lurch back there.” said Mike, presenting the bear to his friend. “I didn't know what to get so...” Alex smiled.  
“Thank you, boys.” Zach put down the basket awkwardly on the bedside table.  
“These are, ah... from my mom.” he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. Alex looked at him fondly.  
“I should send a thank you card.” A new voice came from just inside the hall.  
“Ah, you're all here.” said the delivery doctor. He held up a small device and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize for any factual inaccuracies. I have neither given nor witnessed birth, this is just from what I've seen on TV and read on Wikipedia.


	4. How I Wonder

Alex woke up to darkness, the barest amount of light slipping through a high window with bars. She tried to move from the cot she found herself lying on. No restraints this time, but her lower body was still sore from childbirth. Grace. Where was Grace?  
“Hello?” she called. There was no reply. She felt tears welling up in her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks before she could blink them away. “You bastards.” she said stubbornly. “Give me back my daughter!” Her throat felt like it was filled with sand. It was all she could do to keep from giving up.  
The door opened, bringing a sliver of eye-gouging fluorescent light into the room. A nauseatingly familiar face greeted the blonde detective.  
“Hello, Detective Eames. You remember me, don't you? I'm Doctor Faure.”  
“Where the hell is my family?” Doctor Faure walked closer to the cot. There was something different about the star nymph. When Alex tried to lunge at the pleiad, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen.  
“Your daughter's fine, I just checked on her. Your husband's only a few doors down.” Alex glared daggers at the doctor as she let herself be examined without protest. When it was over she lay back on the cot and blew a stray lock of hair out of her face. She felt herself being lifted out of bed and into a wheelchair. Doctor Faure lead her out of the room, down a sterile white hallway and into a small nursery with a delicately carved oak cradle in the centre. In it, was Grace. Alex wheeled herself over and checked her daughter for injury. Seeing none, she snuggled closer, marveling at her own little “miracle of life.” Alex may not have been religious, but at that moment in time, she felt incredibly blessed. The Fae woman behind her spoke, the regret clear in her voice.  
“We're not monsters, you know.” she said softly. “The Good Folk don't conceive easily, so the birth of a child is always a reason to celebrate.”  
“You did the right thing.” replied Alex. Her daughter began to fuss and the detective undid her shirt to nurse. When she was finished, she did it up again and rocked her daughter to sleep, humming a lullaby under her breath. Doctor Faure stood behind Alex's wheelchair and coughed. It was time for them to go. The tears were streaming down her face in earnest now, despite the detective's attempted to blink them back. She kissed her sleeping daughter on the forehead and laid her down in the cradle. She brought the tiny blanket around Grace's shoulders and tucked it in under her.  
“I'll be back, sweetheart.” she whispered. “I'll get you out of here.”  
Doctor Faure lead the detective back to her room and helped her lay back down on the cot. When she was settled and the pleiad was ready to go, Alex tugged on the doctor's arm.  
“I know you're not all monsters. Thank you.” Doctor Faure gave a tiny smile and turned to exit the room. At the last moment, she turned back to her patient and said,  
“There's a shift change at noon. For about five minutes, your family's unguarded. To the left, opposite side of the hall, last door on the right. You didn't hear it from me.” She then left, closing the door behind her. Alex dropped her head to the pillow and grinned for the first time since she woke up. There was a chance, and all she had to do was take it.


	5. Gone, Gone, Gone

Noon came, and true to Doctor Faure's word the humanoid lion at the end of the hall left his post. Alex opened the door a crack and checked for any remaining medical staff. Seeing none, she crept out into the hall to retrieve her daughter. Once this had been accomplished, she began to search for the room where her husband was being kept. A quick inspection revealed no results. She searched farther down the hallway, at last finding him in a room close to the exit Doctor Faure had told her about. Her husband was lying down on the cot sleeping, possibly drugged. She snuck closer and whispered in his ear.  
“Bobby.” He stirred and opened his soft brown eyes.  
“Alex?” he slurred. Definitely drugged. Alex showed him their daughter, who was just now waking up. Bobby smiled. “I never even got to hold her at the hospital.”  
“Try to get up, and you can hold Gracie all you want.” She shifted the baby to one arm and helped him sit up. He rubbed his eyes and seemed unsteady.  
“How?” he mumbled.  
“The doctor who checked up on us the first time had a sudden change of heart.” Bobby sat up straighter, swaying a little.  
“And?”  
“I think it's legit. She seemed completely remorseful.” Her husband nodded and tried to stand. With his wife's help they managed to reach the door to the outside. They went up a flight of stairs nearly seven stories. By the end of their trek Bobby had stopped swaying and had seemed to have regained all of his mental facilities. There Bobby finally took his daughter into his arms. The baby snuggled against her father and reached out her tiny hand. He let her grab his index finger.  
“She's perfect.” he declared, awestruck. Her tiny tail peeked out and tickled Bobby's finger.  
“Bobby?” whispered Alex. He looked up.  
“Hmm?”  
“We have to go. Now.” He tucked his daughter's extra appendage back into her blanket.  
“Right. Why don't we...” he looked around. “...try and figure out... where... we are.” He gave Grace back to his wife. He looked to the sky and turned in a circle. Alex watched him with increasing amusement.  
“Or we could just head towards the smokestack.” she said, pointing. Bobby looked, and lo and behold, a tiny column of smoke could be seen in the distance, just barely out of smelling range. He glanced at his wife and back at the smoke.  
“It... it could be a forest fire.” he pointed out.  
“After a rainstorm?”  
“Oh.”  
“Still recovering from the drugs they gave you?”  
“I, uh... I suppose so.” They set off.


	6. Liquid Courage

Mike knew something was wrong when he woke up in his own bed. He sat up, getting his hair caught in the bed springs of his roommate's bunk. Swearing under his breath, Mike untangled himself, making a mental note to get a haircut sometime soon. When he was free of the coils, Mike noticed the slight depression in the mattress. He poked it. A groan came from the top bunk. The depression moved until Zach popped his head down, his bug eyes dazed from whatever the detectives had been knocked out with this time.  
“Hi, Logan.” he said. “Ah.... how's... how's your head?” Mike scoffed.  
“Sore. How 'bout you?” Zach shrugged, an impressive feat considering that he was upside down.  
“Better. Um...” the corners of his roommate's mouth twitched upward. “What's so... what's so funny?” Mike finally broke into a broad grin.  
“You look like that alien guy from the History Channel.” Zach's head disappeared and his roommate's smile vanished.  
“Hey, buddy...” He started to get up. “Zach, c'mon, it was a joke!” Now out from under the bunk, Mike ran his hand through his hair. His brilliant, if aggravating, roommate was nowhere to be seen. “Hey, Zach! Buddy!” He walked through the empty cabin, calling his colleague's name now and then. 'Bastard's been holding out on us.' he thought. 'Never knew he could run that fast.' He turned the corner into a small alcove. Zach was sitting in front of a silver bowl filled with water, chanting in a strange language Mike didn't recognize. He walked in with trepidation, wondering whether it would be wise to disturb his colleague. Zach's eyes had turned into the same black pools as his mother's, and shadows with no discernible light source played around his bare torso, upon which a complicated-looking star symbol was painted in white acrylics. Moving further into the darkened room, Mike couldn't help noticing that his roommate was a lot more buff than he'd thought.  
“Hey, Nichols?” he said, quieter than he meant. His roommate has stopped chanting and is now looking into the bowl of water intently, as if he could find the secrets of the universe in a pool of water.  
“They're safe.” Zach says flatly. Mike's startled by his roommate's voice. “Heading towards another Solitary's house. Clodagh Kelly. Two kids, Siobhan and Oisin. Good people. Trolls, like Bobby.” Mike's heart dropped back into his chest as he approached his colleague. He licked his lips. The paint glimmered in the candle light as Zach spoke, emphasizing his lean, muscular frame.  
“Sorry, who's safe?” he asked.  
“Alex, Bobby, and the baby. They're safe.” Zach blew out the candles and cracked his neck. “My shirt's on the piano. Could, uh... could you--?”  
“Oh. Sure.” Mike tossed his friend the shirt. “So, what were ya doin'?”  
“Scrying.” Zach replied, getting up to drain the bowl into the garden. “How do my eyes look?”  
“Ah...”  
“Still black?” Mike nodded. Zach closed his eyes and shook his head a little.  
“How about now?”  
“Back to normal.” The lanky detective relaxed.  
“I'll be in the shower.” he muttered. “Then we'll see if we can join them at the Kellys'.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, Clodagh is pronounced klo-dah, Siobhan is shee-vawn, and Oisin is o-sheen.


	7. Crazy Random Happenstance

After about an hour of walking Alex and Bobby came across a clearing with a bone fide fairy tale-esque cottage. They paused at the edge of the trees, uncertain as to how to proceed.  
“Alex?” Bobby whispered.  
“Hm?”  
“Maybe... maybe you should go first.”  
“I beg your pardon?” Alex watched as her husband struggled for an explanation.  
“They might... they might see you as less of a threat. Take Grace. A... a woman with a baby would be less threatening than... than a, a lone man.” Alex gave him a Look. Finally, she sighed and gave in.  
“Fine. But you'll be right behind me.” Bobby smiled and caressed his wife's cheek.  
“Always.” he promised. They shared a gentle kiss before stepping out into the clearing, Alex carrying the now fussing Grace in her arms. The cottage looked as though it had been copied straight out of the Brothers Grimm, complete with a flower garden, on which a matronly troll was working on. She stood up and turned around.  
“Hello.” she greeted them in a thick Irish brogue. “What brings you so far out from civilization?”  
“It's a long story,” started Alex. “I don't think you'd believe us if we told you.” The woman laughed and began walking towards the couple.  
“What have you got in your arms there?” she asked. At long last Grace began to wail in earnest. Alex tried to calm her, but to no avail. The woman was now standing right next to them, frowning.  
“For heaven's sake, woman! I hope you weren't planning to leave the child in the woods!” Alex and Bobby snapped to attention.  
“What?!?” exclaimed Bobby. “No! We were... we were trying to escape from someone. We just need to use your phone, if you have one.” He looked dubiously at the tiny cottage. Its owner sighed and put her hands on her hips.  
“I hope you'll pardon me for assuming. Humans do the most terrible things to their young.” She glanced finally at Bobby's tail. “Though I suppose neither of you are quite human. My name's Clodagh Kelly. The phone's in the living room, but I insist that you come inside, take care of the little one and have a good cup of tea. Your first?” she asked Alex. The other woman smiled, clearly exhausted.  
“How'd you guess?” Clodagh laughed.  
“Pardon my saying, but you seem a bit overwhelmed.” She smiled at Bobby. “Both of you.” She did a double-take. “Sorry, have we met?” she asked him. Bobby thought a moment.  
“I... I don't think so. We used to work for Major Case, in the city.” Clodagh nodded, thinking.  
“New York police officers. The both of you born there?.” Bobby smiled, holding out his hand to shake.  
“I'm from Brooklyn. Alex...” he said, pointing at his wife, “she's from, ah, Innwood.”  
“Ah. I could tell by your accents. I'm a native Dubliner, myself.” she shook their hands and began walking towards the house, gesturing for them to follow along. “Came to the New World in 18-something to escape that bloody famine. I been thinkin' 'bout goin' back there again, but I got twins, myself. A girl and a boy. They've only got a few more years here a' home, I can stick aroun' 'til then.”  
The Kelly house was two stories high, made of mostly concrete and stone cobbles, with a gravel driveway surrounded by massive oak and pine trees. Bobby glanced around, his face crinkled with thought. Alex nudged him.  
“A penny for your thoughts?” she asked jokingly. She's put her finger in Grace's mouth to placate her daughter for the moment; she hoped Clodagh would allow her to nurse once they got inside.  
“Catskills...” he muttered. “The Erlking... brought us to the Catskills to... what? Study us? Study...” he swallowed. “To study Gracie?” Alex shuddered.  
“Why don't we ask her when we get inside?” she said, indicating their hostess. “We'll have to tell her what happened anyway.” Bobby nodded.  
“Right...” They'd reached the house, where Clodagh was holding open the door for the couple. She smiled.  
“You can nurse in the kitchen, Alex. I’ll get the kettle on and find some cookies.” She came in after Bobby, closing the screen door behind her.  
“And then, of course, you'll have to tell me what on Earth happened to you.” Alex sighed.  
“It's a long story...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog


	8. Tea and Cookies

As the pair told it, the story of the events since October did indeed take awhile. Clodagh turned out to be a fantastic listener, gasping at the right times and laughing uproariously at others. When they were done, Clodagh was silent for a moment.  
“The Erlking is a very powerful enemy, friends.” she said quietly. “He won't go down with out a fight.” Alex sighed.  
“So we've been told.”  
“What... exactly do you know about him?” blurted Bobby. “Everyone we've asked... h-has been pretty vague, so...” he trailed off, seeing the odd look on Clodagh's face. She sighed and set down her tea.  
“Well,” she began, wiping her hands on her jeans. “His real name is...” A wave of light came over the house. For the briefest moment everything in the house appeared red, then orange, yellow, down through the spectrum all the way to violet. Clodagh let out a string of what sounded like Gaelic cursing. “We weren't supposed to shift until Saturday.” She got up and headed towards the front door. The detectives exchanged a look. Clodagh stuck her head back into the living room. “Every few days or so the house and the lands around it shift dimensions.” Bobby got up to follow her. Alex quickly finished burping Grace and got up to see what was happening.  
When she got there stole the breath from her lungs. They were standing in the middle of a large, fantasy-style village, complete with thatched roofs and farm animals walking around on and off leads. What surprised her the most however were the trolls; they appeared to be the only species of Fae in the village, trolls of all different shapes and sizes, from older ones taller than her husband to tiny children playing pattycake with their mothers on the front porches of their homes. She glanced at Bobby, who was taking it all in with bulging eyes. After a moment, they rolled back in his head. He began to wobble on his feet before collapsing on the ground completely in a dead faint.

A hundred miles and one dimension away Zach Nichols gasped like he'd been shot in the stomach.  
“What is it?” asked Mike. He slowed to make a turn and flicked on the turn signal. It was a few moments before the lanky detective could speak again.  
“They're gone.” he whispered.  
“What? Who?”  
“Alex and Bobby.” he replied. “It's like they've disappeared off the face of the Earth.” Mike swore under his breath.  
“Well, that ain't good.” he muttered.


	9. My Only Sunshine

Bobby woke up slowly, as if he was driving out of a stretch of fog on the highway late at night. He glanced to his left, ignoring the crick in his neck that came from staying in the exact same position for hours on end. His wife sat in a chair next to him, nodding off. A colorfully-painted cradle sat barely moving between her and the bed. When she caught sight of him Alex jumped up and rush to his bedside. Bobby gave a tiny smile in an attempt to reassure the love of his life that he was still all there, or at least as “all there” as he had been to begin with.  
“Hey.” she whispered. “Feel better?” Bobby nodded and tried to sit up. His bones protested vigorously, even as Alex tried to help him.  
“How long was I out?” he croaked.  
“A few hours. I guess you'd just topped your limit on the unbelievable.” Bobby chuckled softly.  
“I guess so. Uh... where's Gracie?”  
“Sleeping. Finally. Barely a week old, and already a complete daddy's girl.” Bobby laughed and grinned broadly.  
“Some days... I still can't believe you said yes to that first date.” Alex blushed, remembering her husband's hilariously awkward attempt to ask her out the day after their final case with the NYPD.  
“You better believe it, pal.” she joked, leaning down to kiss him. A tiny cry came up out of the rocking cradle. Alex went over to pick up their daughter. She held the tiny child close to her chest while she walked back to her husband, who swung his legs over the side of the bed. His wife sat down next to him and laid the little one between them. Grace looked up at her parents with bright hazel eyes, a gift from her mother, while the beginnings of a shock of dark curls were already sprouting from her tiny head, leaving little doubt as to little Grace's paternity. Alex couldn't help but notice that this was probably the happiest she had ever seen her partner. His face shone with pride and joy, mixed with a subtle amount of disbelief, as though he thought that this was all a dream and that soon he would be waking up in his shoddy apartment in Brooklyn, having to face another day as “the whack-job of Major Case,” ostracized by his peers, excluding Captain Hannah and the partner he'd loved for over a decade. He reached out a long finger, which Grace snatched with her tiny ones and held on for dear life. He remembered a line from a young adult novel his niece Molly had been reading the last time he had visited: No heaven but this! The words resounded in his head as he glanced their hostess standing in the doorway, smiling at the newborn family.  
“Clodagh. Is there... is there something wrong?” Alex snapped to attention and stood, though not before gently passing the fussing infant off to her husband, who drew Grace to his broad chest, making silly faces and whispering to her in the baby talk that all parents seemed to acquire right after their child's birth.  
“What's going on?” asked Alex. Clodagh sighed.  
“Someone's on the property in the original dimension. Two men, one tall and lanky, the other... less so.”  
“Zach and Mike.” said Bobby, joining his wife and Clodagh in the doorway. Grace seemed to detect the sudden change in her father's mood and began to fuss accordingly. Bobby rocked her back and forth, making soothing noises. The repetitive motion seemed to calm her, and she soon went back to sleep. “They probably came looking for us. The Erlking, he... he put them back home.”  
“After the change, Bobby developed some... special gifts.” Alex explained. Their hostess nodded sagely.  
“Ah. That explains some things. Does he see anything now?”  
“No,” said Bobby. “I d--” he broke off suddenly and stared into space.  
“Bobby?” his wife asked worriedly. “What's wrong?”  
“He's coming. The Erlking is coming.”


	10. A Study in Snippiness

Mike Logan stood on the edge of the property where Zach had tracked their friends. They had ended up somewhere in the Catskill Mountains, miles from the nearest town, and Mike was beginning to itch. He was a city man, born and raised; with the exception of Alex's cabin, he generally preferred not to spend time outside city limits.  
The two men walked up to the giant patch of dirt where a house had once stood. Put of habit Zach and Mike got out a pair of latex gloves and started combing the dirt, looking for clues.  
“I feel like someone out of some damn teenage fantasy novel.” the shorter man complained.  
“Well, I think you'll be happy to note... ah, that, ah... real vampires don't sparkle,” his companion replied patiently. “In fact, they, uh... look more like skeletal being than, ah...” he trailed off as he scooped something up out of the dirt. Mike leaned over to get a closer look. He brushed some of the dirt off Zach's hand and picked it up.  
“It's some kinda...” he blew off the remaining dirt, trying to avoid his roommate's face. “Rock. Marble, maybe?” he turned to look at Zach questioningly. The taller man inched away slightly and took the rock back.  
“I think so, but...” he cut himself off.  
“What now? A disturbance in the force?”  
“We have to move. And you don't have to be so snippy.”  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“MOVE! NOW!” Mike startled at the other man's volume, but dashed off towards the road anyway.  
“Wait, how am I snippy?” he asked when they'd reached the end of the driveway.  
“Are we going to talk about this now?”  
“You're the one that brought it up!” A sudden crash from the dirt patch interrupted the detectives' bickering. They both stared down the driveway.  
“The house is back.” said Zach numbly.  
“Let's go say hello.” replied the other man. They started walking towards the house. “'Snippy?'” Mike asked after a few moments. His companion simply glared at him.  
“Oh, shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to think up clever titles, I really do. This one's based off Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
